He Named Her Catnip
by algebraic.wonton
Summary: This is Katniss and Gale's lives before Katniss volunteered for the Hunger Games and before everything got complicated with Peeta. Right from their very start. This story is a non-overfluffy-fluff zone.
1. Her

**Hey!**

**I am a huge Hunger Games fan, and in fact, I love Gale H. to death. This is my first Hunger Games Fanfic. Did I mention I love Gale?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games. That would be Suzanne Collins.**

**Enjoy!**

**Her**

**Gale's POV**

I had promised to be good. Sit, stay, isn't that what they told me? Well here I was. Eyes devoid of emotion. Hair combed. Glaring at the wall.

I watched as a woman I dimly recognized as Mrs Everdeen. She was a Seam resident like me. Her shoulders sagged and her eyes were empty. Behind her was a small girl with a long dark braid, a few years younger than me, maybe ten or twelve. She looked small for her age. She dragged a smaller blonde girl. The trio sat in their assigned seats.

Mrs Everdeen slumped against the back of her chair. I closed my eyes tightly, trying not to think about how unfit she looked to take care of the already too skinny girls that sat solemnly beside her. Slowing I unclenched my eyes and took in the eldest girl. She would have to be strong and stable, seeing as she would be the one to take over her family. I was ready for it. Was she?

Her eyes were wide and innocent, storm gray. She sat up straight as an arrow in her seat. Her small olive hand clutched at her sister's. On such a young face, her expression was too serious. Her chin was raised high, and by the look of her clenched jaw, she was just a little bit angry. Like I am. I mean, like I "was". Now I'm being good like they told me. They probably hadn't told her the same thing. How much trouble could an eleven year old girl cause?

She would support her family. I could see that. I snapped my eyes shut again, not daring to open them. It was too painful to imagine what this tiny girl would have to do to take care of her family. From then on, for the rest of the ceremony, I blocked out all sounds. Especially when they called her name to come get her dead father's medal of honor.

**Thanks for reading! There will be more, whether you liked it or not. But I would appreciate a review, if you want to. I hope you do! **

**Also, if you know Katniss' mom's name, could you tell me? I hate calling her "Mrs. Everdeen.". **


	2. Catnip

**Hey everybody! Thanks to all of my reviewers….**

**Disclaimer: I am not Suzanne Collins. I rephrase, I don't own the Hunger Games… sadly.**

**Catnip**

**Gale's POV**

I rested my head against the thick tree trunk behind me and tried not to think about the school presentation on the molecular make-up of coal I had on Monday that was worth 60% of our grades. I had nothing. Quickly, I snapped out of my trance. I had hunting to do, or our plates would be empty tonight.

I heard a twig snap. My head whipped around. There was a small girl, maybe eleven or twelve, with long strands of black hair falling out of her braid. Her frame was thin and ghostly. But most importantly, her hand was reaching, reaching, reaching….up to touch one of my rabbits dangling by wires.

"That's dangerous," I stepped out from behind the tree. Fear crossed her eyes. She looked a little bit familiar…

"What's your name?" I asked, hoping to jog my memory. I strolled over to loosen the wire around the rabbit's neck, then I added it to the collection on my belt.

"Khaaaatnehh…" I had forgotten that I had asked a question. Her voice was soft. What did she say? Catknee? No. Too weird. Catnip? Weirder. But more probable.

"Well, Catnip, stealing's punishable by death, or hadn't you heard?" I glared down at her.

"Katniss," She corrected me. Katniss, as in the root? It was none of my business to ask. "And I wasn't stealing it. I just wanted to look at your snare." Yeah, right. "Mine never catch anything."

"So where'd you get the squirrel?" I stared at her belt that held the squirrel in question.

"I shot it." Katniss slung the mini bow she had off her shoulder. Her hands were shaking. My eyes went straight to the bow. It looked well made. I had always wished I could shoot well, or at least had the equipment for it. Where in the world had she gotten this from?

"Can I see that?" I couldn't help myself. Plus I figured she owed me a favor for trying to steal my game.

"Just remember, stealing's punishable by death." Katniss handed me the bow. The corners of my mouth turned up. I caught myself midway. When was the last time I smiled? I couldn't remember.

I examined the bow, running my fingers along the smooth wood. Hmm. "Where did you get this?" I asked, meeting her gray eyes with mine.

"My father made it. He used to take me hunting with him. He taught me how to shoot." She looked a little bit more relaxed.

"Where is your father?" I was already thinking of things I could trade him for a bow.

Katniss' eyes hardened. "He died in a mine accident a months ago. I take care of my family now." I saw her teeth clench and her chin go up, as if she was trying to make herself look more capable. I couldn't help but notice the childlike curls of black hair winding around her neck and forming a halo around her head.

Suddenly, I remembered her. It was _her._ The Everdeen girl. Katniss Everdeen. Her father died along with mine. I sighed in relief mentally. She was making a living this way, not standing outside some Peacekeeper's house at night.

"Me too," I looked her in the eye. "I'm Gale Hawthorne."

"Oh." I saw a flash of recognition in her face. "You know, I might be able to get you a bow." My eyes narrowed.

"In exchange for what?"

"Knowledge. I need to learn how to set snares like those if I want to get enough food for my sister, my mother and me." A crease appeared on her brow.

"You know, Katniss, I think we might be able to arrange something."

**Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this scene. And don't worry, the next scene will be in Katniss' POV. **

**I love this scene in the book. It's so adorable. "Stealing is punishable by death…" that's my favourite. **


	3. Business

**Hey guys... sorry I haven't updated in a while... let's just say I'm technologically handicapped. Sort of. **

**Disclaimer: I am not the rightful owner of the Hunger Games trilogy... despite how much I wish I was.**

**Business**

**Katniss' POV**

I opened one eye slowly when I heard a twig snap. I slung my bag over my shoulder and stood. He stopped a metre in front of me. So he picked up my all-business mood already, did he?

I made myself look up into Gale Hawthorne's eyes, trying not to make it look too hard to tilt my head that far back. Finally, he spoke. " Well, let's get started then," I nodded.

He lifted the flap on his schoolbag and pulled out a neatly coiled wire. Gale turned to the tree I had been leaning against before he came. "First thing first. Tying knots." His fingers smoothly latched the wire onto a nearby branch and I watched in awe as his fingers weaved through so effortlessly.

Gale taught me two simple snares, just enough for small game. The whole lesson we had hardly spoken. I knew for sure I didn't trust him yet. And it felt funny to share the weight on my shoulders.

Now it was my turn. I opened my schoolbag and pulled out an old bow of my father's and held it out to Gale.

A small smile lit his face as he examined it. Again, I found myself wishing I knew him. Wishing I could see that smile more often. Wishing he looked this friendly all the time.

His eyes snapped up to meet mine. "Thank you, Katniss," Still smiling that smile. The corner of my lip turned up. I couldn't help it. "You're welcome,"

I taught him some basics, but not really enough to shoot a moving target. He was a quick learner, but he would need at least one more lesson bofore he could shoot game.

After his lesson, we snaked though the gap in the fence and we walked together through the town to the Seam. Him towering over me. Me keeping my distance. Both of us refusing to look anywhere but straight ahead. And absolutely no speaking. No more sharing or trading for today. I had reached my limit for trust, and I had a feeling that so had he. Us Seam orphans felt vulnerable too quickly.

It occured to me that I had no idea where we were walking. My house? His? Suddenly he turned off where my falling down house barely stood. Too surprised to know what else to do, I walked to the door with Gale right beside me. I turned to face him.

He wore a serious expression and held out his hand stiffly.

I eyed it for a while then shook it.

"See you Sunday," he said as he let go of my hand and gave me one final nod. I opened the door, not bothering to see if he looked back, and went to go practise my snares.

**Icy, eh? It takes a while for them to warm up. Sorry this chapter was a little on the short side, like all of my chapters... Hope you enjoyed. Consider dropping by the reviews page if you know what I mean...**


	4. Middle

**Hi everybody...**

**Sorry if you got a notice for my story being updated... I added a chapter then deleted it because it wasn't the direction I wanted to take my story in. So here is the real chapter that I wanted to update.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Middle**

**Gale's POV**

I woke up at the crack of dawn Sunday morning. Determined to beat her there this time.

I zipped up my jacket halfway and shoved my bag over my shoulder. My bag that I had forgotten to pack. I swore under my breath and crept around the house, squeaking in my leather boots, trying not to wake anybody. Eventually I found my coiled wire and my new bow and arrow.

Once I was out the door, the sense of urgency left. I walked along the dusty road. A few chimneys were smoking, including that of the Hob. I stopped there to trade a can of preserved barries for a bowl of leftover soup and a stale roll.

"You're early today, Hawthorne," Grane, the wiry old man sweeping the floor grumbled.

I ignored his question and lifted my feet so that he could sweep underneath."You're just spreading it around, you know." refering to the permanent coal stuck between the floorboards.

He kept on sweeping.

I finished off my soup and put the roll in my pocket for later.

I crawled through the fence and walked to the tree Katniss had been sitting against last time. I rested my back against it.

I didn't have to wait long. I heard a little tune coming from the direction of the electric fence. It was a jumble of common District 12 childrens songs. When Katniss emerged from the greenery, her whistle died on her lips.

"So, I was thinking that you shoot today, I set up the snares then we split the earnings straight down the middle." I raised my eyebrows.

"You could have set up the snares while you waited." She was annoyed. That I had heard her whistling or that I had gotten here before her? Probably both.

"I wanted you to see. The more the steps are carved in your head the easier."

She thought about this then nodded. "Okay partner, whatever you say,"

I grabbed my wire and set the snares up in the right places, her watcing over my shoulder. Neither of us speaking.

After I was done, Katniss set up her bow and arrow. Sooner than I thought, a big tawny hare hopped by. It was dead in seconds. I turned to Katniss who had a satisfied look on her face. We walked to the hare's corpse. An arrow right through the eye. "Nice," I looked across at her.

She smiled a little and handed me the hare. I buckled it onto my belt.

Hunting with a partner was an entirely different story. This was good, I could feel it. We would almost double our regular loads, with somebody to watch your back.

We gathered up our catches and crawled through the fence. Without speaking a word, we both headed to the Hob. By now it was early afternoon.

I laid out my snare catches on a table and Katniss set down her catches. I had a little bit more, but we tried to divide it right through the middle. We ended up with one squirrell left that needed to be divided. I looked at her.

"Split it right down the middle?" Katniss suggested.

"Head and tail?" I thought about cutting the squirrell in half.

"No. Wouldn't be fair."

"You take my squirrell and this one, and I'll take your hare?"

"Hare is too small."

"This squirrell, the eggs, barries and the hare for the turkey and half the herbs?"

"No way. The squirrell for the eggs?"

"Only if you add in the berries."

"We need to split those."

We thought for a minute.

"The squirrell... for one big bowl of soup? Split down the middle?'

"Deal."

We sat at the dusty counter, each sipping our soup. I pulled out the roll from this morning. "Right down the middle?" I suggested.

"Only if you take all my carrots."

"Sold."

**I hope you enjoyed! This chapter was really fun to write.**

**Was this one long enough? Let me know.**


	5. Good Luck

**Hello there!**

**Here goes my attempt at a somewhat longish chapter. Well at least longer than some of my others, even by a little bit.**

**Disclaimer: As always, the Hunger Games trilogy is definitely not mine.**

**Enjoy! And thanks to all of my reviewers. **

**Good Luck**

**Gale's POV**

The rain eventually woke me up. The thunder helped.

I sat up in our small bed and grabbed my schoolbag. Flipping up my jacket's hood, I walked though the door and closed it as quietly as my sleep deprived limbs could manage. I ambled down the steps and stared at the cloudy early morning sky, giving myself an eyefull of rain.

Reaping Day. Fun stuff. Shaking my head, I walked down the Seam right down middle of the road.

I said hello to a few of the vendors at the market setting up shop, generally recieving sympathetic looks from everybody. How would they know if I would come back tonight? They couldn't know. And my 28 entries spoke for themselves.

I was not in the mood for sympathy today. I picked up my pace, jogging through the outskirts of town and full out sprinting into the Meadow. Blind in the downpour.

It felt good to be hidden my dark trees, even if they were drizzling water on my now uncovered head, soaking my hair. I walk slowly to the collection of trees Katniss and I had been using as a meeting spot lately.

I sat with my knees in front of me, against an old tree with an ancient carving of initials surrounded by a heart. It was quiet except for the uneven downfall of rain filtered through the trees. No animal sounds. We would have a tough time finding anything but worms right now. So much for the much anticipated Reaping Supper.

I rested my head against the wall of rock, closing my eyes, thinking of Effie Trinket complaining about the moisture frizzing her bright hair (who knows what colour this year) or something. It was the only good thing about the storm that I could think of now. At least it would even out the misery between Effie and the rest of us in the Square later today.

Right now I felt so detached from it all. The Capitol, the Seam, the mines. This must be how it feels without the Capitol's stupid policies. Running would be so easy. I eyed the endless span of trees spread in front of me. But I had a family to feed. And a hunting partner waiting for me to say something.

"Gale?" Katniss stood in front of me, her braid hanging over her shoulder, dripping wet. She raised her eyebrows. By now I knew that she couldn't raise only one. I couldn't either.

"Oh. Hi." I stood up, pulling my bag with me.

"Not much game today." She looked on edge. Angry. Worried. There was a little crease on her forehead.

"Look for herbs?" I suggested. It made me mad that one day could do this to all of us. One little ballot box making us fear for our lives. And everybody else's too.

I noticed that my face had slipped into a scowl. Katniss' eyes were on me. I reached down and picked up a cluster of dandelions. "Dandelion salad." I said as she opened a bag to put them in. She reached down and picked up another cluster.

The clouds still hadn't cleared by the time we had almost finished collecting plants. Suddenly, the whole sky gave in. The water came harder than ever, and the clearing we were in didn't help. We looked at eachother. Katniss pointed to a nearby fort of huge rocks. We ran to it quickly, and found a little nook of rock.

Both of us dripping wet, we both sat, Katniss across from me.

Gathered under it, listening to the rain, I never wanted to go back to the Square. My lips turned down again without my knowledge. Katniss was studying my face. When she caught my eye, she looked down.

"Reaping Day." She stated quietly. Her eyebrows pulled together a little bit. Her eyes connected with mine again. "How many?"

I stared at her wide grey eyes. "28,"

She winced.

"How many?"

"4," She whispered. I ground my teeth.

I tilted my head back and closed my eyes. It wasn't nearly as much as me, but this was her first year, wasn't it? 4?

"How many do the town kids get for your year? For 14?" She asked me.

"3," It was almost funny how much of a difference there was.

"Well. Happy 27th birthday." I smiled. I should be 27 if I had 28 entries. But it doesn't work that way here.

"Happy 15th." I retorted. She smiled, stretching out her legs.

This was one of our first real coversations. It felt funny talking about something other than hunting with her. These past months we had formed a sort of silent understanding. We both were fatherless and hungry. We looked after our own. It was only natural that now we were vocalizing it.

I wasn't sure what we were anymore. Hunting partner seemed like a little bit of an understatement now.

"The rain's let up." I told her. We both got up and crawled under the fence and walked side by side through the Meadow. We dealt our finds at the Hob. Now was time to go back and get ready for the Reaping. Anxiety curled in my stomach. Katniss looked a little queasy. I prayed that neither of our names wouldn't be pulled out later this afternoon.

"Well Katniss. May the odds..." I looked at her.

"...be ever in your favor." She had a hint of a smile on her lips as she picked up the ridiculous Capitol accent. I smiled back, and turned my back on her and started walking in the direction of my house.

"Oh. And Gale?" I turned around.

"Yeah?" I yelled back.

"Good luck."

**So they finally talk! **

**Thanks for reading! And I hope you enjoyed. If you have a sudden urge to document your feelings on this chapter, I know the perfect place! It starts with an R.**


	6. Buttercup

**Hi... **

**This chapter's a little bit on the light side, I hope you like it!**

**Thank you reviewers! **

**Disclaimer: Suzanne Collins is the rightful owner of the Hunger Games trilogy. **

**Buttercup**

**Gale's POV**

My mother tossed me my father's old green cargo shirt. It was close to the fanciest thing he owned, but it was also his backup mining shirt. Just to remind the Capitol that, no, I hadn't forgotten it was their fault that he was even in the mines during the accident anyways.

I slung it around my shoulders and started to button it up. My mother sighed and pushed my hands aside.

I didn't object as she buttoned to rest up for me and flattened my collar. Her face was indifferent. I noticed for maybe the first time that I was almost a whole head taller than her.

"There. Let's go." She said. I picked up Posy from her cradle and my mother, Rory and Vick headed out the door, towards the big square in town.

We were late. It was hard to find my age group in the sea of parents and children. I fell into line beside a small boy from town I vaguely recognized as Levi. Or... Leif? Either way, I didn't stick around to find out. A guy from my Chemistry class was waving me over. I shrugged and weaved through the line as subtly as possible.

Garrett from Chem was one of my best friends. I don't say best because we were really close. He's my best friend in comparison to pretty much everybody else.

I edged in between Garrett and a chubby blond kid. He started whining a little. We both ignored him.

"Katniss Evergreen is staring at you." I didn't bother to correct him. Garrett's eyes weren't on me when he said it. I followed his gaze to where Katniss was, her grey eyes trying to tell me something that I couldn't figure out.

"And...?" I turned back to Garrett.

"What's up with you guys anyways?" His gaze was still on Katniss.

"What do you mean what's up?" I knew exactly what he was getting at.

"Why do I always see you walking with her?" He looked at me with his eyebrows raised.

"I don't know. Only you can answer that."

"That makes no sense." He said impatiently.

"Yeah it does. Why do you pay so much attention when people are just walking down the street?"

"Well it does grab my attention when I see you walking with Katniss Evergreen to the Hob, loaded with game." He challeged.

I shrugged.

"So... you hunt with her then?"

"Yeah."

"And that would be because...?"

"What, is this an interrogation or something?" I didn't like where this was going.

"Yes. Now let me get this straight..." He squinted. "You and Katniss Evergreen stay in the wood for hours. Alone. Does that not seem suspicious to you? At all?"

"You said it yourself. We come back loaded with game." We did. He had to be blind not to see the pelts we carried back.

"Not today." He grinned.

"Stalker."

He rolled his eyes. "Answer the question."

"It was raining." I said flatly.

"So if it was raining and you came back with not as much game, what _did_ you do today, Gale." He was mockingly polite.

I was prepared to imitate his tone. "Well, Garrett-"

All of a sudden those big grey eyes were closer than I remembered.

Katniss appeared in between me and the blond kid who started whining again. She turned her back to him.

"What are you doing? You're going to get caught." I muttered to her, trying not to notice the ridiculous smirk on Garrett's face. I wondered how much of our conversation she heard.

I turned to Garrett and stole his hat off his head and shoved it in Katniss' hands. Garrett moved to the other side of Katniss to hear our conversation or maybe so that I couldn't steal anything else of his.

She picked up her long braid and coiled it around her head then slipped the cap over it. She still didn't look like a guy. Thank goodness she wasn't wearing a dress. She was still wearing her hunting clothes. On Reaping Day? I frowned.

"Katniss, right? I'm Garrett." He still had a stupid grin on his face.

She just leaned closer to me. "Prim found a cat." She said quietly. "In our house. Eating..." She winced. "...Food." I didn't have to ask how much. She would never ask for help if she could solve the problem herself.

"Come to our house to eat if you want." I made sure not to mention that we might not even be going back home in a few minutes.

"Oh." She looked uncomfortable.

This would take some convincing. "Tomorrow, you shoot, I'll set traps." We ended up with more food when we were both in our elements. "And I'll take an extra hare. Plus you found that patch of strawberries today. We're even."

"Take a squirrell too." I could tell she felt better.

"Okay."

"Hello District 12!" Effie Trinket's annoyingly shrill voice rang over the square. We all straightened up.

"What did you do to the cat?" Garrett whispered, keeping his gaze locked on the stage where Haymitch was puking his guts out in the corner.

Katniss sighed. "Nothing. My sister wants to keep him. Or her. I swear its the colour of vomit-" She cut off and eyed the stage a bit more. "Yeah. Vomit. You'll never believe what she wants to name it-"

A Peacekeeper was looking our way. Katniss looked down at her shoes, one hand roaming up to check that her hair was still secure in Garrett's hat.

"I want that back, you know." Garrett told us when the Peacekeeper looked away.

"Sure," Katniss smiled. "And by the way, my name's Everdeen."

**Thanks for reading! I would **_**really**_** appreciate it if you left a review, if you want to. **


	7. Family

**Hi there...**

**Here comes a longish one. **

**And as always, THANK YOU REVIEWERS!**

**Enjoy!**

**Family**

**Katniss' POV**

Tension. It multiplied by a few millions of layers as soon as Effie Trinket dropped her million dollar line.

"Ladies first!"

She reached into the ballot bowl, making a show of fishing around for a victim. Her electric blue hair flopped in her face.

I glanced up at Gale. The corner of his lips were turned down and his dark eyebrows were furrowed. Suddenly he looked over at me. I wondered what he was thinking. Did he have any girl to worry about now? I thought about this as his mouth formed a half-hearted smile. I remembered a while ago when I had to sit with the rest of the girls in my grade, instead of sitting with Madge at our own corner of the big table. More students than expected had come on the first day of scool. As a result, we were squished closer to the people we never really felt comfortable with. A few days later, they got a small table to accomodate the flow of new students.

During the awkward time we were forced to sit with them, Madge and I mostly ignored them and picked at our food, and they did pretty much the same thing. But the air between us was far from soundproof. Their talks mostly centered around a few guys, including the tall boy with the grey eyes staring straight into mine right now.

It occured to me that I probably should be worrying about myself being chosen right now, but I couldn't really bring myself to care that much. Gale's eyes shifted focus. He picked up a long strand of hair on my shoulder that was sticking out of Garrett's hat. He tucked it into the side of the cap.

"Thanks," I mouthed.

"No problem," he whispered back, and turned his head to face the stage.

"Casee Nell!" Effie's stretched smile didn't swerve a centimetre.

I stared at the stage where Casee Nell was struggling under Haymitch's vomit-drenched arm.

Gale punched my arm lightly. "You survived." But his eyes were serious.

Effie quickly batted Haymitch away, which left him to stagger around aimlessly.

"Now for the gentlemen!" Her accent made me grit my teeth.

Garrett, Gale and I exchanged glances.

Effie's hand dramaticly reached into the glass bowl.

_28. _That's a lot of ballots. My fingers found their way to pinch the edge of Gale's sleeve. I'm not sure why. My eyes glued themselves to Effie's long fingers wrapping around a ballot.

"Kalen Meer!" Effie looked incredibly pleased with herself. Her enthusiasm didn't even fall a notch when the crowd stood silent. Kalen Meer, a short town boy with brownish hair stumbled up onto the stage. I could see his lips quivering.

"And there it is! Our District 12 tributes!" She grinned. I had to give it to her. She was very good at being cold and indifferent. She didn't even wince when loud wailing started from the section where the parents stood.

It wasn't mandatory to stay any longer, and nobody really wanted to hear what other speeches on the generosity of the government that the Capitol had crowd slowly dissolved.

Garrett let out a breath.

"Did you know him?" I asked him.

"Not really. He's 18. Not in my classes."

"Oh. He looks younger..." I trailed off. "Did you know Casee Nell?" I noticed that I had said "did" instead of "do". "She was in your year." The "was" slipped out before I could stop it. Casee still had a chance of survival, I reminded myself. Even if it was smaller than the probability of me shaving my leg hair. Ever.

Gale and Garrett looked at eachother. "I wasn't close to her." Garrett told me. Gale nodded.

We turned and started to walk.

I saw a little girl running around, her blond hair whipping around her face. "Katniss?" she said in her little voice, her eyes searching the square.

"I didn't think your disguise was that good." Garrett faked looking confused.

"You thought wrong." I told him. "Hey!" I shouted, sliding the cap off my head.

"Katniss!" She ran to me. I grabbed her hand and we continued walking in the direction of the Seam. "Buttercup liked the bunny you found." she said conversationally. I inwardly groaned.

"I'm sure it did." I managed.

"It's a boy, Katniss. You can't call him it if he's a boy." Her voice suggested exactly how fond of this cat she was.

"No, I think I'll stick with 'it'" No way was I calling that thing Buttercup.

Garrett snorted. I looked over to see him and Gale grinning at eachother.

"Who's that?" She whispered loudly to me.

"That's Gale." I pointed to him. "That's Garrett." I told her.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" She looked up at me.

"Of course. Gale and Garrett, this is Primrose Everdeen."

...

"How is _she_," Garrett gestured to where Prim was picking weeds out of the side of the road and gathering them into a bouquet. "Related to _you_?"

"I really couldn't say." I told him. I turned my head to watch Prim offering the bouquet of weeds to Gale's mother Hazelle. Hazelle was, in a word, wonderful. Like my mother, she was worn. Her hands were rough from sewing and washing and her face was sunspotted and tanned. Her black hair looked like it hadn't seen a day out of its ponytail for weeks. I loved her from her first words.

"So this is Gale's hunting partner? Nice to meet you, Katniss." Then she smiled.

Garrett's dad Rod was okay too. He was quiet. Garrett's mom had been out of the picture for a while, and I didn't know why. Turns out they were eating at Gale's too, and helping with food supply and cooking tonight.

We stopped at my house. I told everybody to wait outside while I went to get my mother.

I opened the door slowly. It creaked. The room was dark, and smoke was rising from the candle beside my mother's bed.

"Mum?" I crept closer to her bed. A dark figure was curled up by the wall. I cringed when I heard muffled sobs.

All of a sudden, I couldn't stand to be in the house. I bolted for the door, struggling with the doorknob. Her sobs grew louder. I shoved the door open then slammed it shut.

"Katniss?" Gale yelled from the other side of the road.

I walked over to him.

"The others are waiting at the house. Garrett and Rod went to pick up some things from their house. Are you okay?" He said quietly.

"Yeah." I unfurrowed my brows with some effort.

We started to walk. "My mother's not coming." I told him.

He was quiet for a while. "We'll save some food for her." He said looking at me.

...

"Katniss, do you want to come pick some leftovers to bring to your mother?" Hazelle peeked through the doorway. I stood from where I was playing with Posy and walked to the cramped little kitchen.

"Thanks, but I really doubt she'll eat anything I give her." I told Hazelle.

"Take some just in case." She smiled at me.

"Sure," I said, just to make her feel better.

"So how has the game been lately?" Hazelle speared a piece of roasted squirrel meat and dropped it into a jar.

"Alright. The rain today didn't help. But we had huge loads last week. Did you see that big beaver Gale brought last Sunday?"

"It made a nice stew," She laughed. "Gale told me you found a patch of strawberries?"

"Yeah. The Hob will pay well for those." I put some greens into the jar then sealed it.

"Try the Mayor. He'll pay for fresh berries."

"Thanks for the tip." I tucked the jar under my arm.

"Thanks for the game." She retorted as she followed me out the door.

I put on my jacket helped Prim with her's. Gale walked out with us, Prim insisting he hold her hand.

The air was cold and the stars were covered by clouds. I reached into my pocket and put on Garrett's hat.

"He didn't ask for it back?" Gale looked at me.

"Nope."

He smiled a little. "Do you think people are suspicious?"

He was referring to Garrett's "interrogation" that I overheard. "No. Like you said, we come back loaded with game. No questions asked."

"A few questions asked." He corrected me.

"True."

We walked silently for a while. The sky started to spit.

Gale didn't bother putting up his hood. "Your mom's great." I told him.

"I think so too. You know, she was pregnant with Posy when my dad died. A week after, she gave birth, she was scouring District 12 for a job." He smiled to himself.

"She's tough that way." I said.

He nodded. He looked at me with a grave eyes. "How's your mom?"

I looked over at Prim, softly singing to herself, clutching Gale's arm. No chance she was listening.

"Depressed." I told him bitterly. No need to elaborate.

We had arrived at our little house. Gale kneeled down and said goodnight to Prim.

He stood up and faced me. "See you Sunday."

I nodded. "Thanks."

**Phew! Thanks for reading.**

**Aha Katniss getting her legs shaved? Never! :P**

**Any thoughts on this one would be greatly appreciated... in the form of a review... hopefully? **


	8. Wet Garbage

**Hi!**

**Wow wow wow... We're pushing 60 reviews! Thanks you guys :)**

**Enjoy!**

**Wet Garbage**

**Katniss' POV**

I had a spring in my step. I couldn't help it. Who wouldn't be happy with two fat hares dangling by their belt, just begging to be skinned, gutted then roasted? And then eaten. I could already feel my mouth watering.

School had just ended yesterday. The bright sun shining down on my cheeks suggested the hot days ahead. Last year, summer meant buckling down for a lot of hunting. This year I was actually looking forward to roaming the woods, mainly because my mother's apothecary shop was open again. After months of exploring the forest, I felt suffocated every time I went into our tiny house. With my mother and Prim's bodies hustling around, and the coughing and groaning of customers, the house was always full of hot air. There was no room for me. I didn't want anything to do with my mother's business anyways.

Sundays had become an escape for me. Summer was basically 2 months of Sundays.

I cast a sideways look at Gale, who was walking beside me and swinging a pail of wild strawberries. His face was open and carefree, nodding to customers of ours as we passed.

We reached my house. I jiggled open the door and Gale followed me inside. I stepped aside to make room for him in the cramped kitchen, accidentally nudging Buttercup.

It sprang to its feet and hissed at me. His distorted snout rumpled and his mangled ears perked up. Ew.

I just about stuck my tongue out at it. Gale laughed and reached down to pet it.

"What did you do to him?" He stroked the creature's ears.

"I might have stepped on it a bit."

"Really? Do you have nails attached to the bottom of your shoes?" Buttercup purred and moved its head under Gale's hand, urging him to pet it some more.

"No." I didn't fully understand his question. Or sarcasm. Whatever it was.

"Why is Buttercup's head wet?" He looked up at me with a strange look in his eye.

"Really? Wet? Huh. Must be digging its head in wet garbage. Disgusting."

Gale didn't buy it. He looked around a bit. "What's that bucket of water doing there?"

"Oh, nothing. Just moisturizing the air. Its a little dry for my taste." I said casually, forcing myself to stare right at him. He was suspicious.

Gale thought for a while, stroking Buttercup rhythmically. "Come pet him, Katniss." He looked up at me, a twinkle in his eye.

"No, that's okay. It doesn't like too much attention."

"No really. Come pet him. Unless something's wrong...?" He raised his eyebrows.

Uh oh. I walked over slowly, meeting Buttercup's eyes with my own. I reached my hand down cautiously. I gingerly placed my hand on its ear.

"Good... um... cat." I crooned, stroking its ear a little. Buttercup had stiffened up and was staring at me with its ugly mud coloured eyes.

Just as I was noticing how its whiskers were all different lengths, Buttercup whipped its head under my hand and jumped back, crouching and hissing.

"Must not like the hare smell on my hand." I shrugged and dropped my hand awkwardly.

"What cat doesn't like the smell of hares?" He smirked. "What did you do?"

Time to own up. I wasn't half as good of a liar as I'd like to think I was. Plus I had a feeling Gale had already made a few guesses that probably weren't far off.

I sighed. "I might have introduced Buttercup to a little concept called… swimming?"

Gale chuckled. His grin didn't fade as he stood up and snatched the hares from my belt. He set them carefully on the counter.

"So, you tried to drown your sister's cat?" His smirk was secured in place.

I was about to object to the word drown, but it did have a ring of truth to it. "Its claws are sharp." I told him.

"I bet." He grabbed the pail of wild strawberries from where he had set it down. We walked out the door and ambled along the Seam.

The houses gradually go bigger as we walked, until Mayor Undersee's house loomed in front of us. Something about the perkiness of the perky petunias perched in the window sill, or maybe the spotlessness of the spotless white house that unnerved me. I didn't exactly like coming here to deliver our usual load of strawberries, even if it meant seeing my best school friend.

I lifted my fist to knock, but we had been making deliveries for weeks and I'm sure they knew by now when we always stopped by.

Gale grabbed my wrist before I knocked. He let my wrist go and picked up the brass knocker attached to the door.

"Right." I remembered dropping my arm to my side. I did that every time.

His lip twitched. "You'll get used to it." And he brang the heavy brass loop down on the door hard.

Madge pulled open the door at the first knock, leaving Gale's hand hanging where the door used to be. Madge seemed to pretend she didn't notice his arm hastily dropping to his side.

"Hi," She smiled softly.

"Hello," I said back.

_HISS._

My head turned to the direction of the noise. My eyes searched the street in front of Madge's house. I swear, that noise sounded like the devil.

I turned out to be right.

Buttercup the possessed (and ugly) cat was glaring at a rat buried under a crate

It deepened its crouch and hissed again.

"A cat?" I turned my head to look at Madge.

"That'd be my sister's." I muttered. "Slipped out the door with me." I explained, giving Gale a pained look.

"Oh." She leaned against the doorframe and studied Buttercup. "Poor thing. He looks starved. His ribcage… its poking through his coat. Would he like some meat, perhaps?"

It was almost as if an alarm had gone off.

Except nobody covered their ears in pain because there was really no noise at all. Silence.

I had become very alert, and my eyes shifted to Gale, whose dark eyebrows were drawn together slightly. His eyes were set like coal against his dark skin and his lips were drawn into a tense line.

I felt my own face tighten into an expression like his.

This was one of the longest speeches that I've ever heard Madge speak. And I sat with her every day at lunch. But there was something so _oblivious_ about what she said. Did she realize how hard we worked for the slim amount of food we had? How what she said was a direct insult to our inability to do anything about our lack of food? Of course not. The look on her face flashed the words clueless.

Madge was nice. She was maybe even the nicest person I knew. But she didn't live in the Seam. She was the mayor's daughter. And when you're the mayor's daughter, I doubt things like that ever occur to you. She was good at being soft, passive and kind. Maybe that's what pushed her to ask about Buttercup. You can't try to be nice and polite to everybody because something with most definitely always go wrong. You can't please everybody. That's why I gave up on the whole thing a while ago, so that I don't really have to care when I know I messed up socially.

I looked over at Gale again. His face was cold and indifferent, but smoldering underneath.

I loosened Gale's fingers around the handle of the bucket of berries. "Here," I handed Madge the strawberries. She looked confused as she took the bucket in her hands and handed me a pile of coins.

"Thank you," I said, counting the coins automatically and tucked the coins in my pocket.

I walked off the porch numbly. I was faintly aware of Gale beside me.

We walked in angry silence back to his house, since my mother's shop was open now.

Gale cracked open the door with some effort.

"Hello," Hazelle's head appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. We didn't bother slipping off our boots, since Hazelle didn't bother with things like that. We picked our way over to the kitchen and sat down at the rotting wooden table. Hazelle set down mugs of tea in front of us. I drew mine close and watched the ribbon of steam rise and disappear.

"How was trading?" She asked into the pot of stew she was stirring.

"Fine," Gale said idly, not bothering to elaborate.

Hazelle nodded and started humming to herself as she skinned a squirrel expertly with a menacing pointed knife.

Gale turned to me and set down his mug of tea. "Does that cat ever stop causing trouble?"

He was right. It had been the source of the tension between Madge and us today. And the source of my act of violence earlier today.

I blew on my mug and smiled.

And we carried on talking mutinously about the repulsive cat that was digging its head around in actual wet garbage outside Gale's house.

**Ah I love good old Buttercup…**

**Don't get me wrong, I have no problem with Madge. But I thought it would be interesting to give depth to the scene where Gale lashes out on Madge in the Hunger Games (on Reaping Day).Plus I wanted to include Katniss trying to murder Buttercup somewhere in my story.**

**I hope you liked it, and I would **_**love**_** to hear from you.**


	9. Starving

**Hello there!**

**Thank you reviewers.**

**And as always, I disclaim.**

**This one's a longish one.**

**Enjoy!**

**Starving**

**Katniss' POV**

I wrapped my fingers around the jar of oil and place it safely in a dusty drawer, swiping away a potato bug milling around inside. With all of our tesserae supplies put away, gathering dust in the cabinets, I practically kicked Buttercup aside on the way to the door.

Filling my lungs with the smoky air, I ambled along the cobblestone streets. Everything looked especially grey today, I decided. For some reason, tesserae distribution day always left a bittersweet note lingering on the streets. Though the oil and grain was helpful, it somehow felt like surrendering to the Capitol. Like agreeing to play their ridiculous games. I noticed the scowl that my face had dropped into. I let the frown play on my mouth, secretly glad of the freedom.

From the edge of town, I could see a boy's silhouette dragging himself through the tear in the fence. I quickened my pace.

I remembered the time when I would force myself out of bed at the crack of dawn to get to the forest before Gale. In my mind, I saw his smirk when he caught sight of my surprised expression the day he had arrived before me. Smiling to myself, I dropped to my knees and weaseled my way through the hole. Gale was leaning against a tree, I noticed, when I righted myself and flicked a spider and some dirt off my shirt.

"Hey," I said, walking over to him.

His expression caught me off guard. His jaw was rigid and his shoulders were tensed. I could see a network of veins standing out on the muscle on his arm. I circled my way around Gale to face him. His grey eyes were solid and dark, glaring into the forest over my head.

"Hey," I said in a heavier tone. "What's up?"

He continued to scowl into the foliage looming in front of us for a second. Then his eyes slipped down to my face. For a second, I saw a flash of desperation. Like a puppy caught under the wheels of a cart. But as suddenly as it came, his eyes hardened and cooled to their previous expression.

"I figured out something today. That's all." His voice was infuriatingly calm.

"What sort of something?" I stared up at him.

"Katniss," I could tell he was going to launch into something. "Tesserae came today."

"Yes it did." I wasn't sure where he was going with this.

"Have you noticed how these supplies- they should make us happy? They don't."

"Maybe because it's like a little taste of something so sweet that you can't possibly have the whole thing. That's what makes people sad.'

He shook his head impatiently. I found myself staring at his black hair, recently cropped short. It made him look older, I decided. I wasn't sure if I liked it better long or short. I liked them both for different reasons-"Katniss, we can't afford to think like that here. You know that. We have to take what there is and be happy with it. So why is it nearly impossible with tesserae? Because it's a tool. Don't you see, Katniss?"

I shook my thoughts of his hair out of my mind. "A tool?"

"Yes," His eyes sparkled. "The Capitol's tool. They don't give us tesserae because they care about whether we starve or not." He sounded disgusted. "But it does accomplish something for them. Sure, they want us to have incentive to put our names in the Games. The tesserae insures that we will be more involved in the Games. They keep us starving so that we have this incentive, right?" I nodded. "They could so easily give us everything, Katniss. Everything." His soft voice was scarier than the harsh tone he had been using earlier. "But they want us to hurt. The Games make sure that we won't get close to many people because we're afraid of the Games tearing somebody we love to shreds. They keep us starving and desperate to pit us against each other. Don't you see? They keep us starving so that we never… never had a chance…" Gales voice had lowered to a whisper, the fierce energy somehow being zapped from him. He slumped against the tree. "…to rebel."

"Gale," The look on his face felt like a knife through my heart. "Do you… want to rebel"

"Of course I do. Things shouldn't be like this- things could be different." His voice was strangled.

I didn't know what to say. So I grabbed his arm and dragged him to the forest floor with me. He leaned his head against the thick, mossy trunk and I leaned mine against his shoulder.

We sat there in silence for what seemed to me like forever. Gale didn't move a centimetre, his eyes firmly shut, his face facing the sky veiled in branches. I stared up at the still strained line of his jaw.

He has so much anger, I realized. I felt a pang in my chest. So much more passion than I ever had, muttering about the Capitol under my breath. He was a rebel. I tried to imagine a Gale Hawthorne living an easy life, with a secure family and enough money to use as fishing bait. Nothing came to mind.

Gale's eyes flew open. For a second I thought it was because he had felt the weight of my stare. I opened my mouth the say something.

"Did you hear that?" He turned his head to look at me. I swiftly shut my mouth and shook my head.

"Sounded like a-" He was cut off by a high yelping noise.

Gale rose to his feet drawing me with him. He jerked his chin in the direction of my shoulder where my bow was slung. His bow was in his steady grip.

I yanked it off my shoulder and poised and arrow. We slowly advanced towards the direction of the yelping, trying not to snap twigs under our feet was we went.

A big hare, injured in the head, was twitching on the ground in front of me. I sunk an arrow into its eye.

Gale reached down and snatched it up, examining it.

"It's huge," I marvelled.

His smile was small but steady. It made my lips turn up in response. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving."

…

"Gale," I frowned down at my belt.

Gale was putting out the fire that we had just recently used to cook a particularly fat hare. "Yeah?"

"You know that squirrel you shot, after we got that hare?"

He looked up. I took this as a yes.

"You gave it to me to hold on my belt."

His eyes glanced down at my hand clutching to empty belt hook. "Its gone." He said frowning. "Your belt hook is broken." He stated. "That's okay, Katniss. That squirrel was scrawny. I didn't really expect on a big game turnout tonight, you know-"

"Gale," I hissed.

"What?"

I jerked my hand in towards a collection of bushes by the clearing we stood in. A flash of yellowish brown whipped out from behind it. Something brushed against my shoulder. I turned and saw that Gale had moved to stand beside me, holding a piece of hare meat. He shoved it in my hand and drew his bow from his shoulder.

I turned back to the cluster of bushes. Holding out the small slab of meat, I moved slowly towards the bushes until I stood a metre away from them. I held the meat closer.

The leaves rustled softly, to harsh to be the soft breeze. A large sort of cat creature emerged from behind the bushes. His coat gleaming yellow, and his eyes tawny and slitted, glowing slightly. The missing squirrel hung limp in his jaw. A lynx.

The hare meat slipped out of my hand and tumbled to the ground. With an exclamation, I leaped back before the lynx came too close. He dropped the mangled squirrel and gobbled up the meat in a matter of seconds.

I waited for Gale to shoot him while he was distracted. I turned around.

Gale was looking past me with a strange expression on his face. His eyebrows were creased. I was about to ask what was wrong when his mouth quirked up into a wicked smile.

"What?" I demanded.

He didn't answer, but widened his grin. His eyes flashed to mine, then back behind me.

"Gale. Shoot him." I breathed, not wanting to startle to lynx.

He was silent a second longer. "I think he likes you." He said, obviously not minding at all that the lynx was now not distracted and therefore a harder target.

I glanced behind me. The lynx was sitting where I had dropped the meat. His feline eyes were staring at me expectantly, wide and innocent. And hungry.

I started to walk towards Gale. "So what? He-" I cut off. I noticed the soft padding of footsteps behind me stop. I whirled around again to find the lynx's eyes innocently glued to me. I took an experimental step forwards, keeping my eyes on the creature. His long legs glided forward and stopped a second after I had.

Gale's laugh surprised me. It softly echoed through the trees, making the lynx jump and run back to the clump of bushes.

"Cats just can't seem to get enough of you, can they?" I looked at him. He was grinning.

I ignored his question and walked ahead of him, back to our campsite. I started to wrap up the rest of the hare meat.

"What do you mean, cat_s_?" I focused on the wrapping.

"Buttercup can't get enough of you either. The way he followed us to Madge's?"

"I don't have the slightest idea of what you're talking about."

"Yes you do." I turned to look at him. His smirk was too much. I felt laughter rising in my throat and didn't manage to squish it in time. It escaped my mouth and was soon joined by Gale's chuckle.

We wrapped up the rest of the hare in comfortable amusement. Both of us grinning, we headed back through the woods.

I snaked through the fence first, and Gale followed right after. Both of us swinging our game at our sides, we made our way slowly back to the Seam.

It was nearly dark outside, lights illuminating houses, smoke rising from chimneys barely visible. Vendors packed their merchandise in their carts and wheeled them away, making the streets emptier.

We walked up the steps to my house. Gale handed me my share of berries and I handed him his share of meat.

A little smile played on his lips as he pocketed his shares.

"See? There's more to happiness than _food_." I eyed him.

"That wasn't my point earlier." He said, referring to his rant in the forest. "And how do you know I wasn't smiling because of the delicious looking cold hare meat in my pocket?"

I snorted and reached for the doorknob. "'Night, Gale."

"'Night, Catnip."

"Catnip?" I screeched. I remembered him calling me Catnip because I'd spoken my name so softly. It seemed like years ago, but it had been months.

He laughed and strolled down the steps, his grin intact. "It could have been worse." He was halfway onto the street. "Catknee." Chuckling to himself, he walked down the road without looking back.

I yanked the door open, thinking of what other variations of my name had run through his head. I found my smile only fading when I drifted off into dreamless sleep.

**Thanks for reading, I hope you like it! If you don't get the Catknee part, revisit my second chapter called Catnip. It might clear up a few things.**

**And yes, I am indescribably angry at Suzanne Collins. Are you? I'd love to hear you vent about how disappointed you were at the end of the Mockingjay in a review! **


	10. Meat

**Hi.**

**I disclaim the Hunger Games.**

**Thanks, reviewers **

**Enjoy!**

**Meat**

**Gale's POV**

I wasn't looking forward to the opening ceremonies. Nobody was, really, but this year was slightly different from the others. My mother was going to Rosa Wake's house to watch, and Rosa's daughter had made it quite clear that I wasn't welcome.

Remie Wake did not like me. Maybe once she had, when we toddled around under tables while our parents ate, but that only lasted until we were around seven. She'd frowned at me after I flicked a beetle at her while she was playing with Rory. Her tiny, pale face puckered as she tilted her head. I remember thinking the thick braids hanging from high on either side of her head looked like the fat sausages dangling from a wire in the butcher's shop. She'd proceeded to explain to me the science of cooties, and how that directly affected our friendship. I remembered feeling slightly confused as I stared after her. Not that I missed her as a friend. I was still wondering about her braids.

Last year, I was ironically grabbing a sausage from my bag for lunch at school when Remie broke off from her group of giggling friends to stand across from me while I buckled up my schoolbag and unwrapped the sausage. I frowned and chewed the meat slowly, waiting for her to say something. Her face was a little bit less puckered when she explained to me the non-existence of cooties. And how she was wondering if I wanted to sit with her and her friends at lunch. She'd smiled in a way that made me suspicious, blinking a little bit faster than normal. Her friends had giggled and hid behind each other some more while they waited for me to say something.

I chewed even slower. I stared at Remie and her hair (still the same as when we were seven, in strangely tube-shaped pleats). Swallowing, I said "Um, I have plans." and I'd walked into the cafeteria. A little harsh, as I looked back on it, but I couldn't bring myself to feel guilty.

My mother plucked Posy from her cradle. "I'm leaving, Gale." She looked at me and blew a strand of hair out of her eye.

"All right." I sighed. I didn't want her going alone. All of those kids were hard to handle, and who would make sure their questions about the Games were answered properly if I wasn't there? But they insisted on going. Something about garden gnome Remie's little brother found.

She kicked the door shut on the way out.

I could see the Peacekeepers roaming around from the window by the door. I sighed and was about to turn the little beat-up T.V. on when a knock resounded off the door. I didn't hurry walking over to open it. The knocking grew more impatient. I threw open the door.

"Hello there. Home alone, I see?" Garrett grinned at me, his grey eyes almost black.

"You stalker."

"Thank you." He nodded his head. "Coming to the Square?"

I opened my mouth and considered going right back into the house. "Sure,"

He grinned even wider. "Come on." I slammed the door shut behind me and jogged down the stairs, Garrett beside me.

It was nice outside, I decided. The stars bore through the sky and the street lamps cast a hazy gold over the grey.

"Remie Wake still not talking to you?"

"Of course not. Why else would I be here?"

He laughed. "You sound angry."

"Not at her," I stared at the three broken lamps in a row ahead of us. "I just hope that when Vick asks her why they interview their victims before they send them off to their deaths, she doesn't say 'Oh, because they like to play with their food before they eat it.' or something, bobbing her stupid sausage braids."

"You think they look like meat too?"

"I do."

He snorted and something else caught his attention in the distance. He squinted his eyes and twisted his neck around.

"What?" I tried to follow where he was looking. A figure was sitting on a step leading to the butcher's shop. The shadow of a long coil of hair by the figure's elbow was visible. The light of a lamp illuminated where the silhouette's bag was sitting. The little triangular end of an arrow peeped out from the flap.

Katniss.

Garrett seemed to realize it was her the same time that I did. "Hey! Hey Evergreen!"

"Ever_deen_" I pointed out. He ignored me.

"Evergreen!" We were almost to where Katniss was sitting on the step.

She stared up, looking unsurprised to see us. "Hello." She picked up her bag and slid over. We took a seat next to her.

"Perfect view." I said. It was. The large screen in the Square was poised in front of our eyes, spurting static as the tech crew got the projector working.

She smiled sideways. "Yeah. Why else would I sit by a room full of day-old steaks and sausages?"

Garrett laughed and cast me a look. I rolled my eyes.

"What?" Katniss stared at me.

"Oh, nothing." Garrett's tone immediately made it look like there was clearly _something_.

"No really. What?" Katniss was staring at Garrett now, turning those huge grey eyes on him.

"Just Gale Hawthorne's amusing little crowd of weeping admirers."

"I do not have a crowd of _weeping admirers_." I paused. "Sometimes they sob uncontrollably."

"Yes. And sometimes even nervous breakdowns." Garrett smiled at Katniss, making her raise her eyebrows.

"Kidding." I clarified. "I have no weeping admirers, sadly." I wiped the remainder of a grin off my face. "What are you doing here?"

"My mother's got a patient. Some sort of pox. I don't know. I do know that I do not like being exposed to contagious diseases." A small frown dented her face.

"Wow, me neither." Garrett's joke was half-hearted as he stared at the screen, bubbling up the Games logo.

Caesar appeared on the screen, appallingly covered in neon yellow, right down to his eyelashes, and if my suspicions were correct, nose hairs too. I looked away from the bright screen.

"Where's Prim?" I said under my breath.

"She's helping out," Katniss sounded faintly disgusted, from the nose hairs or from something else.

"Oh." I watched the crowd gravitate towards the screen. "Isn't she a little young to learn apothecary?"

"Yes." She looked up at me. "My mother says she's got 'talent'."

"Does she?"

She shrugged and looked forwards at the screen with faint disinterest. "So, what about your weeping admirers?"

"Nothing. Just Garrett overstating things."

A muffled "Hey." made me smile.

"So what about _your _admirers?"

"What?" She looked confused.

I wasn't about to talk to her about her other admirers right now."Of the feline variety."

"Oh." She put on a scowl. "Them."

I smiled. "I like them. But the lynx is scaring off game. He keeps following you around."

"Yeah. He might have to go."

"His pelt looks fantastic."

"It does. So next Sunday?"

I nodded. "Next Sunday." She flashed me a quick half-smile and stared at the screen where District One was parading down the road. I couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with me when I started to see ground beef in the girl's curly brown locks.

**Thank you for reading! If you think this was TOO light, let me know. **

**And I've come to accept Peetniss. Or Kata? Keeta? I don't know. I'll go with Peetniss. I've come to accept Peetniss, but that doesn't mean Gale is not the best. Which he is. Gale Hawthorne is still the best.**


	11. Squirrels

**Hi.**

**Thanks reviewers **

**I disclaim yet again.**

**Enjoy!**

**Squirrels**

**Gale's POV**

The arrow sunk right into the lynx's tawny eye. I looked over at Katniss. She looked a little bit stunned. I waited for her to slowly lower her arm. For a second she looked almost guilty, I thought with a jolt. But it was over in a flash. She threw back her shoulders and walked over to the dead lynx.

A bead of blood was steadily trickling down his jaw. Katniss leaned down and stiffly removed the arrow, wiping it off on a cloth. She drew her eyes away from the lynx to look at me. Again, something gleamed in her eyes, but it was gone before I could tag it. She sat down beside the lynx and took out her knife.

"Helping?" Eyebrows raised, she looked up at me.

I quickly sat down on the other side of the carcass, pulling out my own knife.

Neither of us said a word as we carefully skinned the familiar looking lynx. Occasionally I peeked up at her, yanking her knife through the hide. I couldn't help but feel a little bit fazed. Was she _guilty_? The thought was almost foreign to me. A million faces flashed in my mind, little animals, big animals, nothing of importance. Simply food for my family. Killing wasn't something particularly pleasant to do, but all I could do to live was to block out my conscience once and a while. My family was worth a few dead squirrels, weren't they?

_Weren't they?_

Katniss' head was bent as she worked over a tricky part of muscle. "Hey." She looked up at me, her brow furrowed. "Catnip." I said softly.

She didn't smile. "Yeah?"

"Did you say goodbye?"

"What?" Her voice cut through the cold air.

"Did you say goodbye to the lynx?"

"Um…" She looked shell shocked.

I scooted over to the lynx's head where we hadn't got to skinning yet. I wiped the bead of blood of his cheek. "Farewell or toodles is accepted too." I told her.

"You want me to say goodbye to a _kill_?" She tried to look surprised, but I could tell she understood what I was doing. This was for her. "Fine." She looked at the lynx's head where an ugly hole stared back, a new ruby red trail forging its way down his neck. She opened her mouth a few times, nothing coming out.

"I'll start." I plucked a leaf from the lynx's ear and dropped it on the forest floor. "Mr Lynx. I can't say I'll miss you, but you do have quite the taste in lurkees." My half-hearted humour was met by a small smile from Katniss.

She cleared her throat and I could tell she was staring at the hole she put in the creature. "Bye." It looked to me as she almost said more, but she swiftly pursed her lips.

We sat there for a second longer, both of us trying to ignore the mutilated hunk of flesh that was the rest of the lynx's body, before delicately prying off the rest of the skin.

…

"You look like a squirrel." I shouted at the tree I was leaning against without looking away from my herb categorizing. Katniss responded by dropping a little twig by my legs.

"Not even a little repentance?" Her voice was muffled by the rustling branches above.

"No. I don't get guilty." I examined a little green sprout, wondering how why Katniss wasn't the one sorting all these plants while I searched the tree. Admittedly, I would have shaken a few more branches (possibly broken them), but I'm sure the tree and I would survive.

"You saying I do?" Her voice was a little closer. Her tone was meant to be teasing, but I could detect the edge in it. This was about the lynx. Did she feel like she had to make up for being weak that one time?

"I didn't say that." I said gently, before my voice became noticeably more bitter."You know, if the Capitol-"

"No rants today, Gale." I hear a twig snap, then a muffled exclamation. I waited until the noise died down to respond.

"Because my long and whiny rants every five minutes make you so _tired_?" I welcomed the acid in my voice.

"No" She snapped. "I just don't want to talk about dead people, dying people or people you think should be dead."

"Well, what do you want to talk about?" I threw the little sprout in my hand into a random pile.

"I don't know." I heard a distant thump and more rustling. "I just want to-" Her voice cut off and I heard a heavier thump and a little cry from the other side of the thick trunk. I scrambled up and walked towards the noise.

"Katniss?" I spotted her twisted at the base of the tree. My heart thumped disjointedly. I kneeled down beside her. "What did you hurt?"

She adjusted herself so that she was sitting, cringing a little bit. "Ankle." She lifted up the leg of her pants and showed it to me. It was a little bit red, beginning to swell, with a minor gash on the side of it. I probed it lightly with my fingers. "So much for my squirrel-like grace." I looked up to find her staring right back at me.

"I wouldn't exactly go so far as to actually call them graceful." I rolled the fabric up further and looked closer at the gash.

"Either way, I'm an injured squirrel, aren't I?"

I let her ankle go. "Can you walk?" she tested it and winced at the result.

"I don't suppose you feel guilty now?"

I looked up, surprised. "Why would I feel guilty?"

"Oh, I forgot. You are so cold and stoic. You don't have _emotions." _I let out a sigh, which she ignored. "And, if you didn't have the ability to make me so mad, then we wouldn't be here." Her tone was only half serious in the last part as her lecture lost steam. She put her hand on my shoulder to stay vertical.

"Hm." I murmured, not caring too much that she'd just palmed off her whole injury to me.

"How are we going to get back, anyways? Its almost dark." I put my arm around her shoulders to giver her more support.

She looked exhausted, simple as that. Surprisingly, I did feel a little pang in my chest. I almost felt like telling her about this, proving that I wasn't all cold and stoic. I flashed back to her face over the lynx's body. Somebody always had to be the strong one, the dependable one, and I wasn't sure I knew how to pull off the apologetic tone anyways. I hated to admit it, but she was right about one thing; my voice suited ranting very well. So instead I wiped those thoughts from my mind and smiled at her.

She was still looking at me for an answer. "Good thing squirrels are so light."

**Usually I'm against the whole damsel in distress cliché, but the ankle part was actually mentioned in the book. Gale carrying Katniss home? I think it's in Catching Fire, near the whipping scene. **

**This scene was made because I thought that Gale deserved an explanation of why he isn't as open and positive as Peeta. He's always been forced to be the rock-steady one. **

**Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it and I'd love to hear from you.**


	12. Clean

**Hi.**

**100 REVIEWS! **

**This calls for a celebration. [insert your idea of a celebratory emoticon here]**

**Oh, and I'd like to thank HungerGamesObsessedILJP for the amazing compliment. I couldn't PM you, so hopefully you see this here. **

**Enjoy!**

**Clean**

**Katniss' POV**

The man was green. There was simply no other way to put it. Green and puking all over our kitchen table. Wince.

I jumped out of the way of the splattering chunks. Unfortunately, Prim wasn't as quick. Her blond curls were sticky and hanging in her face, her dress sporting questionable looking lumps. I swallowed hard and turned my attention to the unconscious man collapsed on our floor. I prodded him with the toe of my boot. No response.

Don't panic, I chanted to myself. I jogged over to the bed at the other end of the room to poke another collapsed figure. I could only see a web of my mother's greying golden hair peeking out from under the quilt. Was it just me, or was the rest of her figure under the blanket quivering? I wrote this off to post-vomit hallucinations, and shook her a little bit harder.

I got more of a reaction from the drunk guy who'd been dragged into our house minutes before.

At least I thought he was drunk. I kneeled down to examine him. All I could smell was the vomit. I wondered briefly if I should go chase down the guys who had pulled him through our door, then bolted when the first round of upchucking started. But Prim was still standing there covered in brown liquid and sobbing. I didn't know who to deal with first, the unconscious and potentially drunk man on the floor, my dirty crying sister or my depressed mother.

I stood up swiftly, accidentally knocking the man's head aside with my boot. Red spots. Blotches on his neck. Bulbous and diseased looking, they consumed the side of his throat, looking like little pins on the map big map on the board in geography class. Trembling, I grabbed hold of the table to steady myself. My hand recoiled when it found the sticky vomit that I'd forgotten about.

Staring down at my hand then back at the ugly red spots on the man, I felt the urge to go shrink under blankets with my mother. Which made absolutely no sense, seeing as she hadn't given me any comfort in months.

Buttercup was mewling at the door, wanting to be let out. I couldn't think of a better idea. I kicked the door open and took off down the street. I heard my sister crying out from the house as I left, and Buttercup hissing because I'd probably slammed the door on its tail. All I could to was to move my feet in the familiar rhythm, trying not to trip on the loose stones on the street.

I found myself at his front door. I forced it open with my clean hand and stumbled into the house.

I stared at the people inside, then raised my barf-covered fingers. "Help," I croaked.

I felt hands on my shoulders. Somebody put chair underneath my legs. Somebody firmly demanded answers from me. And a somebody with familiar grey eyes took my wrist and closed my fingers around the fabric he was holding.

I watched as Hazelle left, and shouted over her shoulder for Gale to watch _me_, to my puzzlement, and not the small children

"As much as that might look like a squirrel, that is not meant for killing." I looked down at the cloth in my hand that I'd been picking at. A few strands of torn thread were on my lap.

"Funny. But in case you haven't noticed, there's a very sick man in my house, my sister is all alone and my mother is _not there_."

"Not there?" Gale grabbed my wrist again, taking the cloth and wiping the vomit off for me since I'd not really grasped the purpose of the fabric.

"Not there." I said firmly, knowing he didn't really need an explanation. My mother had these spells of depression often, and he knew it. "I really need to go over there."

"No you don't." He pulled me off the chair by my arm and dragged me over to the sink.

"Yes I do!" I tried to yank my arm from his grip. No luck.

We were both silenced momentarily by the hiss of water escaping the tap. Gale pulled my fingers under the stream. He turned it around under the water with a clinical expression on his face. I calmed down a little bit while he continued to rinse my hand off then handed me a bar of soap.

"Hazelle can take care of it."

"And I can help her take care of it!" I lathered up my hand.

Gale raised his eyebrows at me. "I know you can. But you see, I really need help taking care of these three very wild and uncontrollable children." Posy was sleeping. Vick and Rory were playing cards and whispering in hushed tones. "And besides, if you weren't here, who in the world would help me with my chemistry homework?" Chemistry was his best subject.

I sighed and sank back down into the chair. "Fine."

…

My clean fingers found the clean doorknob. My clean boots were now the dirtiest things in my clean house. My puke-less, unconscious man-less, clean house.

I thanked Hazelle about a million times. I thanked Gale exactly once. I ignored my mother sitting quietly in the corner, listening to every word that passed between us with her eyes closed.

Gale and Hazelle walked across the clean room and reached towards the clean door.

"Wait."

My mother was now standing, looking pitifully frail. But that didn't quell the anger boiling in my chest.

"Wait." She repeated. "You… your hands need moisturizing." She took a few more steps and then grabbed Hazelle's cracked and blistered hand. "The washboard can to that to them. They must be awful in the winter."

"They're not so bad. A good pair of fleece gloves can fix that." Hazelle's eyes were probing my mother's, and Gale was looking very confused.

"No, they can't. I have a salve." My mother dropped Hazelle's hand and walked towards the medicine cabinet. She rifled through until she found a little blue glass bottle. Hazelle took it and Gale read the label over her shoulder.

"Calendula hand salve." Hazelle read to herself.

"With rosemary." My mother added. She cleared her throat. "Of course, I'd have to whip up a new batch. That one is months old."

"She can't possibly think that a bottle of _calendula hand salve_ can solve everything." I stared at my mother and Hazelle, both of them chattering about business while Gale and I sat at the clean kitchen table.

Gale smirked. "You never know. Besides, this is calendula hand salve…" He picked up the bottle and pointed at the clean label. "…_with rosemary. _And you have to admit, this bottle is pretty sparkly." He held it up closer to the window where clean sunlight was pouring in.

He was right. Clean and shiny, it sparkled.

**Thanks for reading. I hope you liked this one. If you're up to it, a little reviewage would be appreciated **


	13. Capitol Hovercrafts

**Hi,**

**Disclaimer- I do not own the Hunger Games. I now claim that this disclaimer may run for the rest of the story because I am a very forgetful insta-noodle loving, Peeta hating person. **

**Thank you reviewers!**

**Enjoy,**

**Capitol Hovercrafts**

**Gale's POV**

Summer was ending in approximately three hours and twenty two minutes. Not that I was counting down.

All I could think about was the end, looming there like a ticking bomb, waiting to let loose another chunk of rock in the mines. Even with Katniss beside me, humming a usually annoying Capitol lullaby. Even with a huge hare at my feet, fat and dead. Even with the stars winking at us laying down here in the grass.

The electric fence was on, fortunately, prolonging the summer by just a few more minutes. I knew I would have to wrestle Rory out of the Hob on the way home, and then do my pre-year assigned reading that I'd left for the last few hours before school started again, and then I'd have to skin the hare for lunch tomorrow. But I let my back settle into the grass, not caring that moisture seeped through my shirt every time I shifted my weight and I tried to focus on the warmth Katniss' shoulder was donating to mine.

"Looks like a candy wrapper." She pointed at a cluster of stars right above her head.

"More like a grenade." I shrugged. Her hand dropped to her side, softly.

"More like balloons. Like the ones at the Reaping last year? Remember? And then Finch cut some loose and they were stuck on the roof of the butcher's shop for a month?" I could hear the smile in her voice.

I leaned up on my elbows to get the stars from a new angle. "A mining cart. See that handle?" I brought my head to her eye level and traced it out for her. "Like the cart in the cornucopia last night on the Games. Did you see that girl from Two-"

"Look," Katniss said quickly. I took that as a yes. Last night's Games had been particularly gory. "Tilt your head to the right a little bit, and then squint your left eye." Her face was bunched up, but not as rigid as before. Relaxed, like it only could be in the forest. "Looks like the Town Hall in the winter time, lit up in those bulbs on strings." Her voice was quiet, softly throbbing with a pain I couldn't understand, but still made my chest ache. As much as she'd like to deny it, Katniss Everdeen was attracted to all things beautiful. She always slowed walking down the sidewalk, to stare at the cake shop- admiring the icing and the ease of life there, with food and money- and the Town Hall, staring starry eyed at the lights.

The buzz of the electric fence flattened out suddenly. Summer was over.

I couldn't stop sneaking glances at Katniss the whole way back. She was good and pure, honestly and truly, no matter how hard she tried to deny it. I was the real bitter and angry one- I wondered if she knew how much I liked her little displays of optimism that she couldn't even see herself. I smiled to myself, thinking of her reaction if I told her that I thought of her as_ nice_. She would be furious- only because I knew the truth. But the smile wouldn't stay on my face for long.

Because no matter how many times I blinked, she saw a string of bright bulbs, decorating the rim of the Town Hall, and I saw the flashing lights of a Capitol hovercraft, waiting to haul bodies up the ramp.

Summer was over.

**The inspiration for this was the last page of the Mockingjay (the only page of the book I read) when Katniss says that Peeta is a ray of sunshine, and Gale could never "give her the happiness she needs" or something like that. I hate that line. **

**Anyways, that chapter was a little short- I know, and I apologize deeply- but I couldn't get the idea off my mind and think of a better, longer chapter. **

**I'd LOVE to hear from you!**


	14. They Put Their Dead on Television

**Hi there,**

**Thank you if you decide to read past this note, and even more if you decide to review.**

**They Put Their Dead on Television **

**Katniss' POV**

The day we found it, we'd already been hauling around an above-average catch. We'd struck luck at every snare Gale put out, and most of mine. Meanwhile, I'd managed to fling an arrow at a passing fat, doughy bird. We wouldn't die of hunger tonight. When I pointed this out to Gale, he half-smiled at me and said that it might be a good thing if we did. I didn't need to ask why. We both knew. Effie Trinket knew. Certainly, everybody from ages twelve to eighteen and their parents knew.

"Happy Reaping Day, Catnip." Gale had grinned, slinging his bow over his shoulder. With that grin lighting up his face, he looked almost as if he was glad it was Reaping Day. Almost as if he was daring the Capitol to pick _him_, to try him out and see how they liked plotting his death out on a whiteboard. His smile scared me a little bit, if only because I knew that Gale would probably be the best Hunger Games candidate in District 12. And it was possible too. He had the highest tesserae count this year.

"May the odds…" I added, in that Capitol accent. I was actually kind of good at it.

"Be ever in you favour." Gale's accent was horrible. I knew he could easily make it more convincing, but I think he knew it made me smile when he did it wrong. Today was no different, and the corner of my lip curled up against my will.

Gale's gaze shifted over the top of my head. He let out a breath, his lips slightly parted, eyes widening.

"Wha-"

He put his finger to that mouth, which had become a constant lunch-time gossip topic for girls in my year. This had actually been a growing pet peeve of mine lately. It was almost as if the giggles followed me wherever I went, buzzing in my ears when I walked down the halls in school. Or maybe, more accurately, when he walked down the halls in school.

I spun around, and there it was. A doe was poised right in shooting range, touching its left leg to the grass of the forest occasionally, before lifting it up again as if it hurt to touch it. My arrow sunk right into her nose. Gale jogged over and flipped out his knife, slitting her throat in one fluid motion. He kneeled down and pulled my arrow out carefully. The doe's blood covered his hands. I watched over his shoulder.

He took a cloth out of his pocket and swiped his knife clean of blood, standing up with a dazed look on his face.

"She's beautiful." He breathed, staring at the glassy-eyed creature.

"It is something." After a second of silence, I added, "Vifia'll love us." Vifia was the current butcher who always grumbled when we provided her with squirrel and wild dog, claiming that we did better than that but sold the game to Greasy Sae instead.

Gale turned to me, a strange look in his eye.

"What?" I demanded.

"Nothing." He said, frowning to himself, and started hoisting the doe up. I scrambled over, and somehow, bearing such a heavy weight, we made it through the electric fence. The doe's glassy eyes stared up, and I stared away.

…

Something metal glinted in the sunlight. I blinked.

It came down near my finger.

I screamed when I saw the blood

"It's not yours." Gale said, dipping his eyes towards the wound.

The doe's ear was gone.

My words stuck in my throat when a swarm of silver surrounded me, splattering noises, hacking noises, clustered my ears like giggles, but smoother.

"Catnip, watch the eyes." Gale repeated to me as we hauled the doe through the cobble stone streets, like a mantra. "Watch the eyes."

Vifia loved the eyes. Why she put squirrel and dog below her, but not eyeballs, was beyond me. She'd pay a decent price for a good glassy eye. Apparently they were delicious pickled on a bed of grainy rice or sliced in a sandwich with peppered sausage.

A flash of bronze sliced near the eye that I was guarding. I glanced at its owner, an old man grinning with his toothless mouth. I jerked the doe's head away from his knife, but it caught the doe's brow.

I was drenched in blood, and I had an audience, because the glassy eye stared the whole time. I stared away.

…

"Smile." Gale instructed.

I shook my head, pursing my lips.

"Do it."

"No."

He sighed, sitting down on the step of Vifia's shop. "It could've been worse. Could've lost the eye."

"I guess so." I conceded. Vifia had haggled the value of the game so low that it could've been one of those dogs she hated so much, not the most precious piece of meat we'd ever encountered behind the fence. The doe's eyes were so large and brown that we'd bargained a pretty good price out of it, though; some coins, and more importantly, a nice slab of the doe's flesh for Reaping Day supper.

"Next time we'll know better." Gale said, staring ahead. "We won't bring it to the hob first. Straight to Vifia's."

"How do you know we'll find another? It had an injured leg. That's luck, Gale." We weren't usually lucky people, with the exception of the Reaping. With the amount of tesserae we produced, it was a miracle we weren't already rotting in Capitol graves. Or wherever they put their dead. On television, I guess.

"_It?_" He looked at me. "You keep calling her 'it'."

"And?"

"You could call her 'she'. She's a doe, Catnip. You could call Buttercup 'he', but you don't."

I opened my mouth, meaning to explain to him that I really hated animals and that I couldn't make myself call them that, but he was so good at seeing through lies.

"It's not normal to want things to die." Gale told me softly. "You don't have to pretend."

But I did. If I didn't, I suspected that the world would come crashing down on me, like it did with my mother. I could pretend that Buttercup wasn't living, so that it couldn't be dying. This doe couldn't be dead, I couldn't have killed it, if it was never really alive, right?

But I could be dead. Gale could be dead. The two truths I had to look in the glassy-eyed face later today.

"I don't like killing either, you know. But we have to, Katniss. One day," He sat back on the step, polishing his knife again. "The Capitol will be in _our_ position."

"This is about the Capitol?"

"It's always about the Capitol." He smiled grimly. "I better go. Reaping Day and all." He stood and held out his hand to help me up. I took it, even though my hand was sticky with blood and so was his.

"And may the odds…" Gale grinned that grin that scared the death out of me. His accent was especially horrible.

"We did this already." I protested, trying to push the corner of my mouth down.

"Catnip…" He threatened, grabbing me by the bow hanging around my shoulder and pulling me back, holding me until I finished the line.

That grin spread across my face, and it felt so out of place here. It worked in the forest, where there wasn't people passing on the streets looked like they were marching to their deaths, which was true in some cases. "Be ever in your favour."

"There it is." He said. "This has to be the first time I've ever seen you smile outside of the fence. Do you love nature that much, Catnip?" My smile widened against my will. "It's not fair to the buildings. They love your smile."

"I'll be sure to put in more of an effort." I didn't mention how his smile was equally sparse one each side of the fence. He was only trying to make me feel better about our game being destroyed.

"Good." He nodded to himself, letting go of my bow, turning in the direction of his house.

"Good." I said, because this word also had no place in District 12. But Gale never met a rule he didn't like to break, and sometimes, I liked to break them with him.

Walking back home, I rubbed my hands together until its blood curled into little dry pieces and then fell to the ground.

**Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this one. This was pretty long, eh? I sense a breakthrough…**

**The purpose of this chapter was foreshadowing, just so we're clear; Gale's revenge, Katniss' need for good things… and all of the other character ticks revealed mostly in Mockingjay, but also in the Hunger Games and Catching Fire. **

**I'm in love with reviews. Just thought I'd let you know, in case you were debating whether or not to put yourself out on a limb and send one. Honestly, I do. **


	15. The Camera is Stepped On

**Hi there,**

**Last.**

**Chapter.**

**I'm sad to see this story finished, but it's possible that if inspiration strikes, more could be added… I wish I could be more sure, but I'm not. I have a serious medical condition called Spontaneous Writing Disorder.**

**This chapter is a little bit convoluted... just a warning. But don't I always write sort of convoluted-like?**

**The Camera is Stepped On**

**Gale's POV**

Catnip is on the train to the arena at the Capitol, and I'm thinking so fast that I am painfully aware of everything around me. Especially people, because they stare. Stare.

Days later I go hunting. I bring in a catch; it is of botched up turkeys with gouged out eyes and slashes in their valuable throat meat. The knife in my hand had a mind of its own. Maybe it was my hand with the mind of its own. Or maybe I have a mind of my own.

I get paid three times more than I did for the ugly turkeys than for that young buck me and Katniss shot that day in spring.

The merchants hand coins to me without looking in my eyes, being careful to drop the coins into my palm without touching me. As if I would break into a million pieces, like a shiny blue glass bottle of hand salve (with rosemary). I feel like screaming at them because this is what happened after my father was blown up in the mines. I don't want pity or charity- good pay is a reward for hard work, not weakness. And besides, Katniss did not get blown up. She is on fire. There's a difference, you know.

She would laugh if I could tell her that through the TV.

I start in the mines, but it's not new. Men in the mines used to pay me and Garrett, (when we hit the age of fourteen and looked old enough to pass for eighteen) to take their IDs and take their place for the dangerous days where they bomb chunks of rock. They had families to go home to, and so did we. Except ours needed more food and desperate people who want to survive pay really well. Katniss never knew about this, but I know that if she did she would want to come too, and borrow Garrett's hat to look like a boy, but she really wouldn't look like a boy because her cheekbones would be too nice. I would tuck her braid into Garrett's hat and she would grin. I shake my head and shoot a goose in the brain with an arrow. I work hard in the mines, but I wish I could hunt all day. Does Katniss know that I still hunt on Sundays?

I am watching her on TV one night, and she tells the story of that spring day when we shot the buck and bought a goat for Prim. Does she remember that pink ribbon on the goat's neck? Does she remember that I carried the goat home for her? I think she does but she doesn't tell the boy with the bread, who is fascinated by anything coming out of her mouth.

Her mother and sister mostly ignore each other, except for apothecary work. I mostly stay with them now because they like to occasionally yell and scream at each other. Not about Katniss, but about who used up the rest of the rosemary hand salve. My part is to add in that my mother might have some rosemary left in the cupboard for more salve. I go out and take some coins I got by mutilating turkeys (the coins that I didn't slip into the Everdeen's wallet when they weren't looking) and buy some rosemary from Peeta Mellark's mom. When Katniss gets back, I know that her mother and Prim will stop fighting. Ironic as it is, Katniss hates fighting. Prim and Mrs Everdeen want Katniss to come back and be happy.

One day, I see Katniss sorting berries into piles. She is cross legged on the grass in the arena and Peeta isn't there. She's humming a Capitol lullaby, which makes me laugh. The lullaby is something about a man named Revel who grows up in the Seam in a garbage bin made of plastic and propylene glycol and becomes a Peacekeeper through many trials and tribulations. Only Katniss would sing a song with subliminal messages to obey the government, all the while fighting for her life against them. The best part is that she doesn't even know she's on camera. It's almost as if we're behind the fence again.

Suddenly, I miss her and it feels as bad as hunger.

I see her look up from her piles of sorted berries and smiles right at the camera. I can't look away. The screen goes black, and then I see the back of a bare foot, and then a boy with blond hair sitting beside her and messing up the piles of berries. I wince. He even squashes one under his knee. I realize that she was smiling at him walking towards her.

Probably, she loves him. Who am I to tell? I don't know anything about love. Plenty about the other stuff, but not love. He loves her, I know for sure. He's a horrible actor; the only angle Haymitch could play in the games was the truth. Thankfully, that angle makes plenty of sponsors pour in cash for the lovebirds because Katniss and Peeta, the starstruck lovers from District 12, have their hands wrapped around everybody's hearts. Mine too. Mine's wrapped in a fist.

Sometimes I even have to fight Katniss' mother for the coins in her hands. She tries to sneak to the Hob when she thinks I'm asleep and tries to donate all of their money to Katniss and Peeta. Doesn't she know that I don't sleep anymore?

One day on TV, Katniss is in a clearing. The sun on the camera distorts the image and spots dot the edges of the film. The camera is in a tree this time so Peeta can't step on it again. She really is alone. Her braid is in and it stands out against the rest of the image. The rest is washed out. Her hair shines so black it's almost blue. Her fingers tie knots that I showed her. Sometimes, the footage completely whites out from the sunlight exposure. I remind myself that the sunlight is actually a lightbulb simulating natural light, but not until the footage is over and turns to a girl with a pinched up face eating porridge.

Before the footage is finishes rolling, I notice that her braid is smooth and silky. Beautiful. I remember the time she was about to steal my rabbit traps, that first time in the forest. The time I thought she said Catknee, and when she shook my hand like a Capitol Peacekeeper making a business deal. The time her grey eyes looked like the exact same colour as her dad's, but I didn't tell her that. The time she held her father's arrows like she might eat them if there wasn't enough chicken for her at dinner. Her baby hairs were wild like a halo around her head.

Suddenly, I am in love with her.

**Thanks for reading, you there. Do you think it was confusing? Hopefully, it was confusing in a good way that will leave you puzzled YET understanding and reeling.**

**Team Gale forever, and ever, and ever, and ever… I know I am repelling potential Peeta-loving reviewers right now, but integrity counts, right? Right.**

**If you're wondering what propylene glycol is, it is a random chemical I chose for the artistry of the piece and to display the sad and chemically twisted society the Capitol has made. And, uh, that's all.**


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